ADELE, АЛЛА ПУГАЧЁВА - Миллион алых роз

Oh,

Once lived a painter.
So long—
Canvases filled his place,
But he had loved only one.

An actress with beauty and grace.
He sold his house and his arms,
Sold everything he could own,
Just for the sake of her heart.

Seeds of his passion were sown.
Million, million, million crimson roses—
From your life, from your heart—
You can see from above.

He’s deep and truly madly in love,
Turns his life into flowers for you, my love—
Crimson roses.

From your life, from your height, you can
See from above.
He was deeply, truly, madly in love.

Morning arrives at your door,
Fading away like a dream.

Flowers
Cover the floor.
Bright as a scarlet red string—
Frozen, you’re standing in this rich man’s gaze,
Crying while in the shadows he stood,
The pain standing nearby.

Million, million crimson roses—
From your life, from your heart—
You can see from above.
He who deeply, truly, madly in love.

He
Turns his life into flowers for you, my love.
For you was the meeting they shared.

Might took a train
Far away,
But in her soul he had fled.
Song of the roses will stay.

Lonely, the pain lived on.
Hardships he faced to the end,
But in his life they had shown—
Flowers he chose to extend.

Million, million, million crimson roses.
From your light, from your height, you can
See from above.
He who’s deep and truly madly in love—

Turns his life into flowers
For you, my love.

Oh.